


Prompt fills

by Doom_Cookie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, F/M, Multiple Pairings, Multiple Ratings, adult content in some chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:34:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5808196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doom_Cookie/pseuds/Doom_Cookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fills from livejournal! Mostly about Sansa, because she is my muse!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sansa x Rhaegar - getting caught

**Author's Note:**

> So, I don't have a live journal account, but I do go on there sometimes, and I've actually been filling prompts. So here they are. Enjoy.

Pairing: Sansa/Rhaegar 

Rating: Mature! Here there be smut! Read at your own risk!

Summary: Sansa and Rhaegar are caught in the act.

His hands are in her hair, stroking, pulling, wrapping it around his fist. Sansa knows he loves her hair, he told her once that it was what first drew him to her. It's color and curls reminded him of the fire his house stood for. When he tugs on it in public, she knows that means he wants her.

His mouth is on hers, kissing, licking, sucking. Sansa knows it's only a precursor to what will come later when his mouth is lower, but his kisses are so sinful, they make her moan all the same. Everything about him sinful. From his eyes that sparked with desire the first time he saw her, to the way he moves his hips against her now, his cock grinding against her clit, separated only by his breeches and her small clothes.

"Please," she whimpers, as his lips move to her neck.

"Please, what?" He prompts.

"Please, Rhaegar." And he moans. He loves it when she says his name, and Sansa loves saying it. Loves being the only one that's not family that can.

He knows what she wants without her having to say it, and he begins to undress her. He unlaces her dress with deft fingers and slides it down to pool at her waist with her pushed up skirts. His mouth moves to one of her breasts, his hand on the other. His other hand is still in her hair, pulling to make her arch against him. His mouth moves to her other breast, and he nips it with his teeth, making her yelp, then soothes it with his tongue.

He smiles up at her as he gets to knees, sliding his hands down her body as he goes. He palms her knees and looks in her eyes.

"May I?" He asks, and there is something so powerful in the act. Something so powerful in having the King in his knees before, asking permission to pleasure her.

Sansa takes a deep breath. She nods silently at him, and immediately he is pulling off her soaked small clothes, and kissing his way up her thigh. 

That first swipe of his tongue up her slit makes her gasp and clamp a hand over her mouth. Soon she devolves into moans and mewls as he licks and sucks at her, causing her hips to churn against him. When he thrusts his tongue inside her, she moans his name. She is so very close now, of only he would -

He sucks hard on her clit and she comes undone around him. She watches him stand and strip his shirt off as she comes down, and reaches forward to untie his breeches herself. She takes his cock in hand as soon as it's free and gives the head a lick, making him moan.

"I will not last if you continue that, love." He tells her, stroking her cheek.

Sansa leans back on her hands. "Then come inside," she tells him as she spreads her legs wider. He steps forward and kisses her, and she can taste herself on his lips. He grips her hip and slides himself into her. They stare at each other for a moment before he begins to move.

They go slowly at first, but Sansa doesn't want slow. It's been days since she's had him, and she wants him fast and hard. When she digs her nails into his back, he speeds up. His hands hook under her knees to draw her legs around him, tilting her hips just right to hit that spot that makes her scream out his name in repetition.

They are both so loud, they don't hear the door open, too caught up in each other. They do hear the tray crash to the floor, and they both look over at the poor maid that's caught them. Sansa freezes for a moment, but Rhaegar turns her face back to him and continues on, hips slapping against hers, breasts bouncing in time with his thrusts. One of his hands move up her thigh and he thumbs her clit, making her cry out. That, coupled with the very thought that someone has seen them like this, half dressed and fucking atop her bed, makes Sansa come right there, Rhaegar following after.

"You will tell no one of this." Rhaegar orders the girl. Sansa looks over shoulder at the girl and sees that her face is red, but though her eyes are wide, there is a certain interest in them.

"Of course not, Your Grace." She squeaks out. 

"Good, leave us." He says, and she scurries out of the room. 

Sansa is sure that the girl won't be telling anyone anything. She has far more pressing matters to attend to.


	2. Sansa x Gendry - seven minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Sansa/Gendry
> 
> Rating: T
> 
> Summary: Arya gets Sansa and Gendry into a closet together.

This was all Arya's fault. Now she was stuck in here with her little sisters weird friend Gendry for seven minutes. When the childish game had been suggested, Sans had hoped she'd end up I here with Joffrey, or maybe the birthday girls brother, Loras Tyrell. But no, her annoying little sister rigged it so she'd end up in here with Gendry instead.

"Well?" Sansa asked him with her hands on her hips.

"Well, what?" Gendry asked.

"This is seven minutes in heaven. Are you going to kiss me or not?" She prompted. Those were the rules after all, and Sansa was not going to let anyone call her craven for not kissing the boy.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asked hesitantly.

"Well, no, not exactly, but those are the rules. We are supposed to kiss." She explained.

"I'll have you know, I'm a gentleman. I'm not going to kiss a girl if she doesn't really want me to." He replied.

"Aren't you worried about being teased?" Sansa inquired. Sansa thought it was a little sweet that he wouldn't kiss her unless she told him yes, but most boys liked to brag about who they'd kissed as soon as they came out. If they didn't say anything, they got ragged on.

"No. Better to be teased for doing the right thing, than to celebrate doing the wrong thing."

Sansa had played this game tons of times before, and no one, not one boy, had ever asked her if she wanted to kiss them. They all just jumped on her the minute they were inside. But Gendry asked, and it really was the sweetest thing. 

"Gendry, I want you to close your eyes." She told him, and he did. 

When she leaned in and pecked him on the cheek, he startled and opened his eyes.

"You're sweet." She told him. "Do you want to catch a movie or something? Maybe tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll pick you up." He said, a smile tugging at his mouth. Sansa smiled back and grabbed his hand.

They stayed there like that, smiling at each other and holding hands until their time was up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't know I needed this. But apparently I did. Hope you liked it.


	3. Sansa of the Sword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa discovers an affinity for swordplay. She also doesn't care.
> 
> Pairing: n/a
> 
> rating: g

"I bet I can hold my breath longer than you!" Arya exclaimed. She and Sansa were in the hotpools, bathing, and of course Arya was being her usual lively self.

Sansa sighed. "Why would I want to do something like that? It's entirely unladylike."

"Well, I suppose you don't have to, if you're really that scared." Arya said slyly, baiting her.

"I'm not sacred!" Sansa said indignantly. "I can hold my breath just as long as you can."

"How about a wager, then, sister? If you win, then I will be silent and still for every sewing lesson for the next moon. If I win, then you have to take sword lessons with me for the next moon. Deal?" Arya offered.

"Deal." With that they both held their noses and dunked under the water. What Sansa didn't know though, was that Arya had been practicing holding her breath for a while now. She was bound to win.

When Sansa burst out of the water to breath, Arya smirked. This was going to be fun.

 

Arya

It wasn't fair. It really wasn't. When Arya had come up with the idea, she thought it might be fun to watch Sansa fumble around with a sword for a few hours in the training yard, then she would tell Sansa she could stop. Now, they were four days into the bet, and as it turns out, Sansa is a natural.

She had perfect form, and she was picking the technique up faster than Arya had when she started. She could block almost every one of Arya's hits. By the gods, she even made it look pretty! Like one of her girly dances!

The worst part was, Sansa didn't even seem to appreciate her talent! As good as she was, all she did was complain about it being dirty, and tiring, 'and can we please stop yet?'

Honestly, they might actually have something to bond over if Sansa wasn't such a girl about it.

 

Robb

Robb found the whole thing hilarious. His sweet, ladylike little sister was a natural at swordplay! What made it even more funny was that she hated it. It didn't matter that she was good, Sansa hated being even a little dirty. 

Teasing her was the best part. 

“How are your hands, Sansa?”

“Will you be needing a suit of armor?”

“Isn't swordplay just so much fun!?”

“Shut up, Robb!”

Even when she got better and managed to knock him into the dust, he laughed. It was decidedly hilarious. That was, up until Robb noticed all the boys ogling his little sister in a pair of his old breeches and a tunic. Then it was decidedly not funny.

 

Jon

Jon didn't know what to think a first. Sansa, playing at swords? The very thought was ridiculous. But when she refused to stop, even though she obviously abhorred it, Jon did feel a little proud of her. Even more so whenever she came to him for help with a maneuver she found difficult.

 

Catelyn 

Catelyn loved her daughters, so very much, and as much as she would prefer if Arya acted a bit more properly, she would support her daughter in whatever she wanted to do. But seven save her if Sansa turned out to love swordplay like her sister did. Arya was wild enough in her own, not to mention Rickon, but Catelyn didn't know what she would do if Sansa suddenly became wild, too. Her only solace was that Sansa seemed to hate it, as good as she was, at least for now. But this little bet was far from over, and Sansa refused to go back on her word.

Damn that Stark conviction.

 

Ned 

It was all very bittersweet for Ned, watching his daughters go at it with swords. It reminded him so much of his own childhood, before war and death tore it all apart. He could only pray that it wouldn't end the same for his own children, and that Robert never caught wind that his eldest daughter did not only posses Lyanna’s sweetness, but her sword prowess as well.

 

Rickon 

Rickon didn't like it, not one bit. Arya and Sansa, both girls, were allowed to play at swords, but he was still too little? No fair!

 

Bran

Bran couldn't understand why Sansa hated it so much. Didn't she know how great it was to wield a sword? And she was so good at it, too. It was baffling.

 

Bonus: Rodrick Cassel

He wanted to cry. Sansa was the best student he had ever had. She followed directions, for all that she disliked it, she took her training seriously, she had a natural gift for the sword, and now the time was up, and she refused to continue learning.

It wasn't fair.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was my first time writing something of this nature. My face was red the whole time. Hope you liked it.


End file.
